


Anniversary

by Ceia



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 09:59:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceia/pseuds/Ceia
Summary: Jamie likes pretending there’s still a chance she might want this as much as he does, even though he knows that isn’t possible.





	Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> [Drabble done for a prompt sent to me on Tumblr!](https://superceia.tumblr.com/post/174205225165/anniversary)

“This – this ain’t just – gonna be a one off, right?” Jamie asks, sort of laughing it out between their kisses. When Angela only answers with a vague  _mmm_  against his mouth he pushes her off him, pressing her shoulders down onto the bed.

“M’bein’ serious,” he says, frowning at her amused grin. He tries to ignore the inviting curve of Angela’s body as she writhes for him but she looks fucking heavenly, all radiant skin on his dirty bedsheets. He’s already left multiple marks on her, teeth and tongue on her neck and metal fingers on her hip, but looking at Angela now fills Jamie with the urgent need to leave more of them, everywhere, all over her. Some way of claiming her, or maybe to reassure himself that this is even happening at all right now.

“You? Serious?” Angela claws her fingers down his bare chest, a perfect distraction from what he’s just asked. “I didn’t think you had the capacity for that kind of thing.”

“Got the capacity for plenty of things,” Jamie says, kissing along her throat. He hesitates when he reaches her mouth, watching her chin tilt up in anticipation of being kissed. It’s pleasing to see that she frowns when he doesn’t kiss her. Jamie likes pretending there’s still a chance she might want this as much as he does, even though he knows that isn’t possible.

“Then why don’t you show me?” Angela says, breathing it over his lips. “Don’t you want to fuck me, Junkrat?”

He does, but he wishes she wouldn’t call him that - wishes she’d call him Jamie instead. Doesn’t want to be Junkrat to her anymore, sick of hearing her call him the same thing everybody else does. They’ve known each other for two years now.

“‘Course I do, and I’m gonna,” he says, still not kissing her. “But I want a lot more than just that.”

Angela cringes at him, and it hurts that it’s apparently so hard for her to believe he could have feelings beyond wanting to fuck her.

“Really?”

“You fucking know I do,” Jamie says, and her little laugh makes him feel awful for admitting it, embarrassed that he’s exposing himself like this when they’re naked on his bed. Angela’s hands slide around to his back, and Jamie groans when she drags her nails over his skin, thinking of the lines that’ll be left in the morning. Part of him wants her to scrape hard enough to scar him, because at least scars will last longer than a single needy fuck, seeing as that’s all Angela seems to want out of this.

“You – you want more too, right?” he asks, searching her eyes for any evidence that might convince him otherwise. Jamie knows he shouldn’t ask when he’s shit scared of the answer, but he can’t help himself. Angela cocks her head, looking at him like he’s being ridiculous.

“Is this really the time to be discussing something like that?”

“Just – answer me, will ya?”

He doesn’t want to believe she’s only doing this because she’s horny and he’s willing – because she’s lonely and he’s here, grateful for every look, every touch, waiting and hoping and yearning for something more. Surely Angela knows that Jamie has been in love with her for the last two years, doesn’t she? In all that time she’s barely looked at him. But her boyfriend broke up with her last week, and suddenly they’re one date in and she’s tearing his clothes off - touching him, kissing him, drowning him in his own bed.  
  
“Of course I want more,” Angela says.   
  
_Don’t lie to me_ , Jamie thinks, wants to say.

“Then fucking beg for me,” he says instead, deciding that he’d rather have the lie than nothing at all.


End file.
